


Sight That's Dyed Red

by Kimium



Category: Akudama Drive (Anime), xxxHoLic
Genre: Alcohol, Crossover, Drinking, Established Relationship, M/M, Mention of Killing, Mild spoilers for Akudama Drive, Mild spoilers for XXXHolic, One Shot, Pre Canon Cutthroat, Shopkeeper!Watanuki, Wishes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29600088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimium/pseuds/Kimium
Summary: One shot. Crossover."The pain, if it still was present, was muted by the pull of the shop burning within him. Time and space pooled in a thick, viscous ball of darkness and twinkling constellations. Blinking rapidly, Watanuki swore he saw the universe open up to him like a flower, tempting him with the answers to every single secret. Then, as fast as it came it curled up inside Watanuki with the speed of a time lapse film, bundling and folding into a heavy ball that sat within Watanuki’s stomach. For a second a flash of red burned in his eyes. Watanuki turned his head to the door.“We have a customer.”Watanuki's lunch (dinner?) is interrupted by a customer for the shop. Or: A supernatural explanation to the red Cutthroat sees.
Relationships: Doumeki Shizuka/Watanuki Kimihiro
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	Sight That's Dyed Red

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!!!
> 
> I was writing another fic tonight but this fic idea slammed into my brain out of no where and I knew I had to write it as soon as possible. Once again I'm pulling out a XXXHolic crossover. I love CLAMP and I love XXXHolic with all my heart. I love the themes of the series and I love any opportunity to use them in fics or full on cross the series over with another one. 
> 
> Just to clarify you don't need a ton of knowledge for XXXHolic or Akudama Drive to read this but there are some soft spoilers to the series (more so for XXXHolic). So, if that bothers you feel free to skip reading this. 
> 
> As always feel free to leave kudos and or comments. Also, if you want to message me or check out my tumblr the link is right [HERE](http://www.kimium.tumblr.com).

Lotus. Water lily.

Watanuki’s eyes snapped open at the floral smell, his brain immediately snapping to life. Like a car battery being kick started to life soon the spike of alertness dropped, falling back to a normal level. Blinking lazily, Watanuki turned his head and at once a sharp pain flooded his neck, making his eyes water. Groaning, Watanuki lifted his one hand to his neck and rubbed the muscle, as though his half assed attempt at massaging would fix the crick in his neck. A vain attempt but Watanuki didn’t stop rubbing as he used his other hand to prompt himself up and glanced around.

Under his body was the firm but still plush cushions of the couch. No doubt the couch’s arms were the cause of Watanuki’s neck cramp. Light blue in colour, the cushions starkly stood out with the deep red kimono Watanuki had slipped on. As he sat up the entire right side of his kimono slipped down his arm, revealing his entire chest and part of his midsection. The entire ensemble was held together by a loosely tied obi but with one rough motion the knot Watanuki had hastily tied earlier would unravel and open up his kimono, revealing his naked form for all to see. In a fantasy world the action would no doubt be provocative, seductive. Here in reality, it was an unremarkable display of sloppiness and remains of sleep. Watanuki half heartedly tugged at the kimono with his free hand in an attempt to fix it. The silk just slid through his fingers and threatened to reveal more.

“I see you’re awake.”

Watanuki flickered his gaze over to the side. The doors were open, revealing Doumeki standing there, dressed very casually in Western style clothing. In his hands was a tray of food, steam rising off it. Watanuki’s lips curled into a half smile and half scowl as Doumeki walked in without invite and slid the doors shut with a dull thud.

“How long was I asleep?”

“I don’t know,” Doumeki set the tray down on the low coffee table in front of the couch, “I only arrived about half an hour ago. You were fast asleep but I was hungry.”

“So, you made yourself at home and cooked in my kitchen?” Watanuki raised an eyebrow.

“Yup,” Doumeki popped the last syllable, “is that a problem? I made you some food too.”

Watanuki glanced down at the food. It was a simple but traditional meal with rice, some sort of grilled fish (mackerel by the looks of it), steamed vegetables and mushrooms, and miso soup.

“It smells good,” Watanuki finally said as he reached for the chopsticks, “thanks for the food.”

“You’re welcome,” Doumeki paused. “Do you need help eating?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your neck. You slept strange.”

“How astute of you. Don’t worry, I can manage eating even with my neck protesting.”

“If you say so.”

Doumeki moved over so he was sitting beside Watanuki. Immediately his body heat seeped over to Watanuki, comforting and steady. Subtly Watanuki shuffled over, closing the distance slightly between them before he picked up the bowl of miso soup and sipped it. The familiar taste washed over him and for a second Watanuki forgot all about his aching neck. Then, he moved slightly to pick up his rice and his neck protested very loudly. Gasping out breathlessly Watanuki attempted to move his hand around his neck and shoulder but a second later a larger and warmer hand replaced his hand. Doumeki easily pressed harder on the muscle and the groan that escaped Watanuki’s mouth made his cheeks pinken and heat up. Shuffling a little bit, as if movement would hide his blush, Watanuki attempted to pull away from Doumeki, but his grip was relentless and steady.

“Don’t try to hide how much this hurts. I got this,” Doumeki half scolded and half assured.

“Is this some sort of excuse to touch me?” Watanuki grumbled.

“I don’t need your poor sleeping positions as an excuse to touch you,” Doumeki retorted, “or do I?”

A small scowl filled Watanuki’s face but it was still accompanied by the flush on his cheeks. Doumeki continued to massage and press into the muscle, expertly relieving some of the pain and pressure.

“Well?” He pressed. “Do I?”

“I hate you,” Watanuki gripped his rice bowl tightly.

“Lying isn’t very nice, Watanuki.”

“Who said I was lying?”

Doumeki rolled his eyes, “Just eat your food and stop acting like a bristly cat.”

“A bristly cat?!”

Watanuki turned his head, consequences be damned, and tried to glare at Doumeki. Doumeki, however, just grabbed Watanuki’s head and lightly turned his head so Watanuki was looking forward.

“Don’t move your head,” he commanded, “you’ll mess up my massage. Stay still.”

He dropped his hand and Watanuki couldn’t find a good reason to disobey Doumeki. So, with a grumble he picked at his rice before grabbing some of the mackerel and eating it. Stuck with staring at the room, Watanuki glanced at the clean space that wasn’t clean when he fell asleep. Books were neatly back on the shelves and the ashes to his incense burner were swept out. In the small incense pot smoke lightly swirled out, clearly the source of the lotus and water lily smell.

“Did you light that?”

“That?” Doumeki stopped his massage for a split second. “Ah. The incense. Yes, I did. You have quite the variety of dried flowers and such to burn so I just picked a smell at random.”

“I see,” Watanuki continued to eat, “thanks.”

“Oh, a rare thanks from Watanuki—”

“I thanked you for the food earlier, didn’t I?”

“—that’s just common politeness—”

“Don’t dismiss that! It counts!”

“—you don’t even thank me after we fu—”

Watanuki’s blush returned with full force, this time a deep red, “I don’t need to thank you for THAT!” he screeched. “It’s implied with—”

The sentence faded on Watanuki’s tongue as a familiar tingle ran down his spine. His fingers tingled and the shop suddenly felt both too large and too small around Watanuki. A magnetic pull washed in a molten heat over Watanuki, threatening to take over. Setting his chopsticks down, Watanuki abruptly stood up, breaking Doumeki’s hold on his shoulder. The pain, if it still was present, was muted by the pull of the shop burning within him. Time and space pooled in a thick, viscous ball of darkness and twinkling constellations. Blinking rapidly, Watanuki swore he saw the universe open up to him like a flower, tempting him with the answers to every single secret. Then, as fast as it came it curled up inside Watanuki with the speed of a time lapse film, bundling and folding into a heavy ball that sat within Watanuki’s stomach. For a second a flash of red burned in his eyes. Watanuki turned his head to the door.

“We have a customer.”

“We?”

“Yes, we. You’re staying here by my side,” Watanuki stood up. He then clapped his hands before speaking into the empty room, “Maru, Moro, please escort our customer here.”

For a moment the air wrinkled as though Watanuki’s order was lodging itself into the water of reality before it smoothed out like a rock dropping into a lake. Satisfied, Watanuki moved to sit down but Doumeki was standing in front of him, his hands on Watanuki’s kimono, urgently tugging at the fabric.

“You can’t meet a guest like this. Allow me to fix your kimono.”

Watanuki opened his mouth but shut it a second later as Doumeki expertly fixed the fabric, making sure it was properly adjusted. He also tied the obi in a semi complicated knot that caused Watanuki to raise his eyebrow at the casual display of dexterity. (And, if Doumeki’s hands lingered on his waist for a fraction of a second too long that wasn’t important to bring up.)

“Your customer is almost here," Doumeki noted before he sat down, “don’t just stand there.”

“Don’t tell me how to do this,” Watanuki half snapped but with no heat. “I’ve done this before.”

“Never said you haven’t,” Doumeki mildly replied.

Giving a small huff, Watanuki sat down and smoothed the imaginary wrinkles on his kimono, allowing his fingers to linger on the silk before he dropped his hand. Red still flashed in his mind and a headache slowly began to build up. Watanuki glanced at the table. Besides his cooling food there wasn’t anything else. He scowled.

“Where is my pipe?”

“I put it away. I didn’t think you’d need it while you were eating,” Doumeki easily answered.

“Great.” Watanuki sucked a deep breath through his nose. The red started to become more vivid and consistent, burning too brightly in his mind. “I need it.”

“That’s a poor habit.”

“I don’t believe I asked for a diagnosis,” Watanuki sighed. “This customer is going to be a pain. I already can feel the headache.”

“No smoking.”

Sucking in a deep breath Watanuki rubbed his temples. First his neck and now his head? “Fine. Then grab me some sake.”

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to leave your side.”

“Doumeki…”

“Fine, fine.”

Doumeki stood up and walked over to the small cabinet in the corner, opening it and pulling out a bottle of sake and the appropriate serving containers. He glanced over at Watanuki.

“Are you going to offer some to your customer?”

“I’m not wasting alcohol and giving some to the source of my headache.”

“Okay.”

The cabinet closed and a second later Doumeki was back beside Watanuki. He had just opened the bottle and was beginning to pour it into the sake bottle when the doors opened. Maru and Moro glided in, smooth, too perfect, their doll like features and motions so perfect they were a pale comparison to the lively motions of a regular human being’s. Behind them was a man who was pale. Not just in his skin and hair but also in his clothing. The only form of colour in the man was his eyes, a startling purple magenta and a small birthmark under one eye. A smile that didn’t even attempt to reach his eyes formed on his face and Watanuki suddenly sent a silent apology to Maru and Moro. Compared to this man they were practically alive and bursting with energy. Yet, despite the paleness the colour red kept pressing and flooding Watanuki’s mind, the headache increasing. A very small irrational part of Watanuki demanded he kick the man out but business was business. Watanuki grabbed the sake Doumeki had poured him, swirling it in the cup before taking a slow sip.

“Welcome, how may I help you today?”

“Help me?” The man’s voice was soft, gentle.

“Yes, this is a shop after all. No one comes here without a wish,” Watanuki took another sip of his sake, “so, what is your wish?”

The man stared at Watanuki before he carefully walked in, his gaze sliding over to Maru and Moro, blank and motionless. Silence carefully filled the room as the man took in the room with cool disinterest. But when it slid over to Doumeki something slightly sparked behind his eyes, a flame of interest before it faded.

“This is a shop,” he finally spoke, “for wishes?”

“That’s correct. You came here so you have a wish you want fulfilled.”

The man stared at Watanuki before he tilted his head, “What if I don’t ask for a wish to be filled?”

Watanuki shrugged, “Then you leave here today but you’ll return sooner or later. That’s how it works. Wishes demand to be filled. So, it would save us some time if you told me what you want filled.”

“I see,” The man hummed, “though before I state my wish may I ask what the price of a wish is?”

“Sure,” Watanuki reached for the sake, “it depends on the wish. I can’t name a price until you tell me your wish.”

A beat passed before the man laughed warmly, “How shrewd of you. Very well,” he walked further into the room until they were only separated by the coffee table. “I’d like the ability to see people worthy of the colour red.”

That explained the pulsing red behind Watanuki’s eyes but his wording was so vague. Watanuki’s head pounded, starbursts of white light briefly flashing behind his eyes, “If I may ask, why do you want this ability?”

“Does it matter? Will it affect my wish being granted?”

“Not at all,” Watanuki assured, “but I want to know. So, please answer.”

The man tilted his head, staring at Watanuki before he nodded and sat down, folding his legs under him, “I’m called Cutthroat. I want to see people blossom into beautiful red blossoms. I want to see those worthy of being killed by me. What is the price for this wish?”

A serial killer. Great. Immediately the price of Cutthroat’s wish washed in Watanuki’s mind, as though the universe had popped it into his brain. Watanuki’s lips curled in distaste for a moment before the pulse of the shop smoothed over him. He wasn’t here to judge who came to the shop. As the shopkeeper he was supposed to be impartial and neutral. But beside him he could sense Doumeki shuffling, sense the gathering of power at his fingertips, no doubt wanting to summon his bow and shoot the man’s head clean off. Watanuki immediately slipped his hand into Doumeki’s gripping it tightly. Doumeki immediately gripped Watanuki’s hand tightly in return. The pain of his grip grounded Watanuki.

“That’s a heavy wish,” Watanuki warned Cutthroat, “taking of a life is a heavy burden already. Yet you wish for something to aid you in your killing.”

“If you cannot grant it that’s fine.”

“That’s not it,” Watanuki immediately said, “it’s not a matter of if I can or can’t grant it. Rather, it’s a question of if you’re willing to pay the price.”

“I won’t know unless you tell me what the price is,” Cutthroat mildly said.

“Very well," Watanuki inhaled deeply, steeling himself, “I can grant you sight to help aid in your killings. However, your price is your sanity.”

“Sanity? I didn’t realise I still had sanity. So, what will happen to me? Will I lose all rationale and just attack anyone I deem fit to kill?”

“That’s not how it works," Watanuki shook his head. “Sanity isn’t simply a switch that is on or off in someone. Everyone justifies their actions to work within their world view. Justification is a part of sanity.”

“That’s nice philosophy but that’s not answering my questions.”

Watanuki reached for the sake bottle and poured himself and Doumeki some sake, “When I say sanity as your price what I mean is once you find a victim, you’ll be fixated on killing them. The urge won’t stop until you kill them.”

“Oh,” Cutthroat blinked, “I’m already a thorough person so I don’t see how this is a price I’m paying.”

“I wouldn’t know either,” Watanuki shrugged. “Only the person paying the price will know the full extent. That’s all I can say. The choice is up to you.”

Cutthroat hummed and Watanuki took the opportunity to sip his sake. The rush of alcohol was welcomed. Beside him Doumeki did the same, though Watanuki was certain he wasn’t drinking the alcohol properly and had shot the entire cup. Another beat passed and Watanuki almost took another sip when Cutthroat spoke.

“Very well. I’ll accept your price.”

A shiver ran down Watanuki’s spine and inside of him the magic of the shop rushed forward into the air. Almost like a painter painting reality or a weaver plucking at threads one moment reality stood with Cutthroat’s wish not granted and the next it was granted. There was no in between. The time before the wish had been granted ceased to exist. Watanuki swallowed, the taste of the universe burning in his mouth as he watched Cutthroat’s eyes widen. He blinked before he stared at his hands and then at Watanuki.

“Oh, how fascinating,” He half whispered, “it’s red.” He tilted his head and a wide, almost too wide smile danced across his face. “Your companion has some around him…” Cutthroat tilted his head, “and also a bit of gold… is that connected to your eye?”

Watanuki raised an eyebrow, “Does it matter?”

“No,” Cutthroat’s smile faded into a simple, almost serene one, “I was merely curious.” He stood up, “I’ll take my leave. Thank you, and have a good day. Oh, also, I like your kimono. Very red.”

With almost too smooth motions, Cutthroat exited the room. The air was still, paused in anticipation for a moment before the power of the shop rushed out of Watanuki, leaving him drained. The red behind his eyes had disappeared but the pounding headache wasn’t gone. Scowling, Watanuki grabbed the bottle of sake and poured both himself and Doumeki a cup.

“Ugh, that was unpleasant,” Watanuki sipped his sake before mournfully looking over at the food. “Your hard work has been wasted. Sorry.”

Doumeki grunted before he pulled Watanuki into a hug, arms tightly winding around him. Blinking, Watanuki looked up at Doumeki, who’s face was pale.

“You granted a serial killer his wish.”

“I’m the shopkeeper. I’m a neutral party.” Watanuki muttered, “It’s part of the deal.” He paused and shut his eyes, seeing the trail of energy that was left over from Cutthroat’s presence. “Besides, he isn’t part of our universe but a completely different one.”

“How did he get here? I thought it was challenging to find your shop.”

“I don’t know; doesn’t matter,” Watanuki sighed before he tried to move out of Doumeki’s arms.

Doumeki, however tightened them and pulled Watanuki closer, until his face was against Doumeki’s chest. Under his ear, Watanuki could hear Doumeki’s heart beating.

“Uh, Doumeki?”

“Just, let me hold you for a moment. Please.”

The heartbeat under Watanuki’s ear beat slightly faster. Watanuki smiled to himself and nodded, closing his eyes, “Sure. Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Shopkeeper Watanuki: My weakness. I love him as the shopkeeper.
> 
> Kimono: I didn't say it but in my mind it's one of Yuuko's because I love Watanuki wearing her clothing. I think it's fun that he wears a more feminine style.
> 
> Sake: When drinking sake you're not supposed to shoot it but sip it (not sipping it is impolite).
> 
> Doumeki's bow and arrow: Canonically he can summon the weapon (made out of spiritual energy).
> 
> Connected to his eye: I'm referring to the moment in canon when Doumeki wished for Watanuki to share his vision (after the events of the spider lady).
> 
> How Cutthroat got to the shop: I know in Tsubasa and XXXHolic getting to Yuuko's shop is a challenge but in this fic I decided that since Cutthroat isn't part of a CLAMP universe that he can access the shop if he has a wish to be granted.


End file.
